Ace Attorney Investigations: Arran Hunter
by TheCobaltKiller
Summary: Prosecutor Arran Hunter is an extremely successful and prestigious figure, but perhaps he has met his match in this debut of the series Ace Attorney Investigations: Arran Hunter, whether he knows it or not...


"_Today is a great day. It shall go down in history. Today, my country will open an embassy in your country, just like you did with us four years ago..."_

"Democrat Nursultan Nazarbayev sustained his Presidential Status after the election ended Tuesday night. Nazarbayev defeated his opponent, Republican Madiyar Bahktiym, by just 27 votes. Many local officials had predicted a close race, but no one knew it would be decided by such a slim margin. After the results came in late Tuesday night, Nazarbayev decided to give a speech before the opening of the Embassy of Kazakhstan right here in England," she said, into her tape recorder. Her name was Rachael Valle, a reporter for the London City Press. She stood facing the stage where the President was to give his speech, beyond which was the Abberton Reservoir, where the Presidential Jet would land. "The President's Private Jet has just landed and his Security Detail is preparing for his appearance."

The President emerged from the plane. Applause was caught in the background of the tape as Rachael continued, "The audience applauds as the President steps off the plane, and onto the stage. With a massive grin on his face, the President waves as he steps up onto the podium, ready to give his speech;

'_Ladies and Gentlemen of Great Britain. __Today is a great day. It shall go down in history. Today, my country will open an embassy in your country, just like you did with us four years ago. A gesture of trust and union between our two nations.'_

"The President raises his fist above his head and-"

The sound of the gun going off ripped through the crowd's ears as if they were right next to a fireworks display. Then a second, deafening shot rang out. Screams of fleeing speech-goers drowned out the shouts of the Presidential bodyguards, as they escorted their employer back to his plane. To safety.

Prosecutor Arran Hunter sat back and relaxed on the sofa in his office in the High Prosecutors' Offices block of the Crown Prosecution Service, sipping calmly out of a cup of tea, enjoying an exclusive report, presented by his old friend; Lucas Riley, on President Nursultan Nazarbayev's Speech. Brown drops hopped over the edge of his tea cup and onto his saucer as the shocked prosecutor sprang forward.

Upon witnessing the attempt on the President's life, Prosecutor Hunter threw on his blazer and made haste to the location of the President's speech. The hour later, when Hunter arrived, the security guards had only just managed to calm the crowd. Hunter immediately noticed his partner, Detective Jack Cooper, and the Chief of Police. After rushed greetings, Hunter was escorted to the stage, to begin his investigation.

Long, quiet moans could have been heard from the creaky, wooden steps up to the stage, if it weren't for all the commotion. Detective Cooper was following Hunter and his escort onto the stage, when Hunter turned around and raised his hand, "That's far enough, Jack." He began. "Please assist Officer Byrde. She's questioning audience members over there." He pointed to a small crowd of worried faces being interviewed by a policewoman.

With Cooper on his way, Hunter decided to begin his investigation. His initial thought was to question the victim, if he was alright, but decided against it for the time being. He began a thorough search of the podium and its surroundings. Scattered papers lay under his feet, victims of the rush to save the President. He searched for evidence of the bullet, but came to the chilling conclusion that it hit someone. He inspected a bed of flowers on the edge of the stage, in front of the Right Audience. By it, on the corner of the stage, he noticed a Kazakhstani flag. As he approached it, he noticed a bullet hole. _Perhaps two shots were fired?_ He thought. He inspected the surrounding area, only to find a ruptured balloon. Based on the position of the flag and balloon, he was able to determine the bullet's trajectory. The shooter had been in the Left Audience.

Before progressing on to the speculated position of the shooter, Hunter decided to question people in the area who may have valuable testimonies. "Might I request an audience with the President," he asked, as he approached the two security guards blocking the plane's door.

"No, sir," replied the one on the left. "Not even you may enter, Prosecutor Hunter."

Not wishing to provoke these men to take action, Hunter decided to wait and investigate elsewhere. On his way down the steps towards the Left Audience, Hunter heard a female voice calling to him. He paused to look around, so as to find the source. A young woman with a microphone attached to a tape recorder approached him.

"Mr. Prosecutor," she began. "My name is Rachael Valle, I'm reporting for the London City Press. Have you any comments on the events so far?"

"I'm afraid it is too early to disclose any information to the public. However, I may be able to help if you might aid my investigation. That tape recorder," he pointed to the small box in her hand. "Would you kindly play back the recording of the incident?"

The reporter pressed a button and a click, followed by a low-pitched hum, could be heard. When she had gone back far enough, she pressed the play button. A playback of Rachael's commentary and the President's speech was heard, along with to voices in the background.

"Is that Detective Cooper talking?" Hunter asked her. "And the Chief of Police..."

"Yeah, these two guys in front of me," she replied. "Wouldn't stop chatting, whispering away like a couple of critics at the back of the theatre. Oh! This is the bit."

Two gunshots could be heard on the tape. Nearby heads turned at the sound, in fear of another shooting. _Two shots were fired, that reinforces the shooting of the flag..._thought Hunter. "Well, this just about confirms my suspicions," he said. "Let's investigate the Left Audience; that is where the shooter must have been!" The two proceeded to the West side of the park, where Officer Byrde and Detective Cooper were still interviewing witnesses. Hunter turned to the reporter. "Miss," he began. "If you don't mind my asking, don't you want to clean up your jacket? It appears rather muddy, probably as a result of today's events."

"Oh, this?" replied Rachael. "No worries. My trusty Parka is fit for any weather, and it's reversible. Efficient, right?"

"Indeed," Hunter muttered as they approached the Left Audience. "It is time we began our search of where we believe the shooter was, and possibly, well... Hopefully, still is..."

"Awesome!" exclaimed the eager Ms. Valle.

Hunter surveyed the scene, green grass had been trampled on where spectators had been standing, and a lonely bin stood shamefully in the middle. _Perhaps, _thought Hunter. _There is something that that bin can teach us._ He strode over, slowly and carefully, observing his surroundings, and counting his steps. Behind him, Rachael Valle followed his every move, hopping along excitedly.

By the bin, was a tree. Conveniently placed, so as to allow the man to hang up his jacket. He then rolled up his sleeves and put on a pair of white gloves. He hesitated for a moment, before cautiously reaching in and feeling around the bin's interior. His hand soon came to light again and, as a result of his search, was clasping a small waist bag. He unbuttoned the flap and lifted it open, to reveal two compartments. In the first, he found a small piece of paper.

"W-what on Earth?!" he exclaimed, examining it.

"What is it?" Rachael asked.

"Th-this piece of paper... It's a security plan of the event!" He folded it back up and placed it in the bag again. He then removed the item in the second compartment. It was a revolver, with a laser pointer on the underside of the barrel. Hunter flicked the six-round cylinder open, confirming that two shots were fired. "Based off of these two new revelations," he began, turning to Rachael. "I can conclude that this was most likely a professional hit."

"E-excuse me. S-sir," came a voice from the crowd. "M-Mr. Prosecutor!" Hunter turned to see a cowering audience member, a short man holding a digital camera. The man stumbled over. "I have a photograph of the incident," he said, turning his camera screen to the intrigued prosecutor.

"Hmm..." Hunter examined the photo. "There seems to be a contradiction in this new evidence."

"What?!" exclaimed the photographer and the reporter at the same time.

"See here," Hunter pointed to the President. "The President bares a red mark on his forehead, but the only possible source of that red mark is this." He held out the revolver. "The laser pointer. However, the President wasn't hit in the head, otherwise he wouldn't have been escorted into the plane, and we would have received news of his fate. Perhaps, this attempt hadn't been as professional as I thought..."

"I-I have a second photograph, sir," said the photographer, pressing the button to proceed to the next photo.

"Ah!" exclaimed Hunter. "Here you can see the source of the laser pointer. A man in a marine blue raincoat. Actually, was it raining earlier?"

"Yes, it was," replied Rachael. "Not to worry, I'm fit for any weather!"

Hunter asked the man if he could assume possession of the camera for the duration of the investigation, to which the man simply nodded. As Hunter turned to continue his examination of the area, he spotted someone who seemed to be a valuable witness. He approached him, unnoticed. "Excuse me, sir," he began. "Am I correct in assuming that you are a TV Cameraman?"

"Yes," replied the man, looking up from his camera. "Why do you ask?"

"My name is Arran Hunter; I'm a prosecutor on this case. I was wondering if you caught the incident on camera."

"Well, um... Yes and no," began the fidgeting cameraman. "You see after the first shot was fired, people began to panic, and flee the area and my camera was knocked over..."

"I see... Might I watch the footage anyway?"

"As you wish." The screen showed the President standing on stage, his hands resting on the podium. Then he raised his right arm and a gunshot rang out. Just as the cameraman had stated, the camera was then knocked by audience members running away, and a second shot rang out.

"Thank you, sir," Hunter turned and left. Rachael hurriedly followed. "That confirms two very important details."

"Oh? Really?" asked the reporter, equally as intrigued as she was confused. "What two things did you see? I didn't notice anything new."

"On the contrary," Hunter raised his right index finger and rested it gently on his temple. "We now know that the first shot was the one that hit the flag, which contradicts the photograph we saw. On top of that, the falling camera caught footage of the blue-hooded assassin fleeing towards the Right Audience."

"Ah..." said Rachael, finally understanding. "Then we should investigate over there!"

"Indeed," Hunter began walking to the East of the park. "Detective Cooper!" he called back. "This way, please."

The prosecutor, the detective and the reporter all made their way to where the Right Audience had assembled for the speech. Hunter looked around. Nothing caught his eye, except for a peculiar-looking trolley. "Detective," he began. "Is that trolley a... Well, um, what is it?"

"That, sir?" Jack Cooper chuckled. "That's a food stall. Seems people get hungry when they watch things... Or perhaps it's because they stand around... Or maybe- Hey! What's that?!"

"What's what?" asked Rachael, instinctively extending her microphone.

"Under there. The blue thing." He pulled out a marine blue raincoat.

"That must have belonged to the assassin," said Hunter, reaching out to take it from Jack. "Look here," he pointed to a sleeve. "The right sleeve is inside out, suggesting it was removed in a hurry." Hunter thought to himself, _This hit seems evermore unprofessional_. "And look there," he pointed to the ground.

"A button?" said Rachael, picking it up.

"Miss, I'm going to have to demand that you hand over that evidence immediately," said Detective Cooper, putting out his hand.

"Calm down, detective," Hunter said, taking the button from the shocked reporter. "Jack, search the surrounding audience for a woman with no umbrella, no raincoat and a blouse missing a button. I think she may be our assassin."

A few moments later, the fast-working detective returned with a blonde woman fitting Hunter's criteria. Hunter held out the coat. "Do you recognise this raincoat, miss?" he asked, mentally matching the button to her blouse.

"What if I did?" she replied.

"Fine, let's start with the basics, what is your name?"

"Abbey Brooke."

"Now then, Miss Brooke. Do you recognise this raincoat?"

"No," she snapped. "And even if I did, I didn't wear it. I had an umbrella."

"And where is this umbrella?" Hunter asked, sceptically.

"W-well, I, um... I lost it. Yeah, I lost it somewhere in all the commotion."

"Then tell me how a missing button from your blouse was found right next to this hurriedly-removed raincoat." He held out the button.

"Well, I-"

"You wore this raincoat, didn't you, Miss Brooke?!"

"Y-yes but, you see... I saw someone else wearing a coat like mine."

"What?!" exclaimed the prosecutor, detective and reporter at the same time.

"The assassin on the other side of the park, I didn't want to be mistaken for them so I quickly hid my coat." She noticed Hunter's sceptical stare. "It's true!" she insisted. "And even if it wasn't, wearing a raincoat is no crime, nor is it incriminating evidence."

Upon hearing this, the shocked prosecutor began to leave when the woman spoke up again, "Prosecutor! I have been observing your investigation thus far... I think I might know how you can determine who the blue-hooded assassin is."

"H-how so?!" Hunter inquired, taken aback.

"There is a contradiction in the second photograph. You hold the evidence that contradicts it," she turned and left.

Detective Cooper instructed the Crime Scene Unit to search for the missing raincoat while Prosecutor Hunter thought back on the woman's testimony. A few minutes passed as Hunter continued to ponder, when he was approached by Cooper. "No raincoat was found, sir." And then it hit him. How obvious it had been.

"Never mind that, Jack. You won't find it," he began.

"We're not that incompetent, sir!"

"No, no. It's just that the blue-hooded figure in this photo is still wearing their coat."

"Eh? Then I ought to look for them!"

"That won't be necessary," said Hunter, a faint smile on his face. "You see, I was thinking back on what Miss Brooke said to me mere moments ago, and I have found the contradiction. There is someone missing from this photo, and I hold the evidence as to who it is. Or rather, you do, Miss Valle!"

"I do? Whatever do you mean?!" she asked in response, both shocked and worried.

"Yes," replied Hunter. "In your hand. The tape recorder! If you listen carefully, two men can be heard; Detective Cooper and the Chief of Police. These same two men can be seen in this picture. But if that's the case, where's the tape recorder? In other words, where are you, Miss Valle?"

"I..." the reporter stared in disbelief at the photo. "I spent a lot of time trying to find a good position; I must have been ducking in and out of the crowd at the time."

"I'm afraid that isn't a possibility."

"What?!"

"You see, in the photo, the President is raising his fist, right before the shooting, just as you described on the tape when the voices of Cooper and the Chief can be heard. You had to have been in this picture, and you are. Right here!" Hunter pointed to the blue-hooded spectator.

"B-but if that's the case..." Rachael smiled smugly. "Where's my blue-raincoat?"

"This is not a blue raincoat, but in fact you reversible Parka!" Hunter explained, pointing to her jacket. "Please allow me to examine the underside of your Parka, it should be both wet from the rain, and marine blue!"

"Hold it!"

"What? Who?" The confused, and somewhat annoyed, prosecutor swivelled around on his heels to see one of the President's bodyguards.

"Allow me to introduce myself; I am Josh Kennedy, Second in Command of the President's personal security team," said the man, a firm hand on his holstered revolver. "The President is alright. However, my Brother in Arms Louis Hardy, Chief of the security team, died protecting him. He departed an honourable man, and I will stop at nothing to catch the assassin."

"I'm deeply sorry for your loss, but may I examine the body. And afterwards, I'd like to speak to the President."

"I'm afraid you can't. Interpol and I are taking over this investigation. Please give me all of the evidence you've collected thus far."

_But the investigation is under the control of New Scotland Yard and the Crown Prosecution Service... _Hunter thought. _But I would be wise to cooperate for now._ He handed over all of the evidence in question, but before he or anyone else could say a word they heard a cry for help. The four of them rushed to a small cliff face, where they had heard the cry originate from.

Sitting atop the cliff, was a young man anxiously looking around. He looked down at the four rushing to his aid. "Please, help me!"

"What seems to be the matter, boy?" Kennedy shouted up to him.

"I-I saw him!"

"Who?" Hunter asked.

"The man who shot at the President from up here with a sniper rifle!"

_What?! _Hunter was astonished by this new revelation. _So there was another shooter? A sniper... Perhaps, he's still lurking near the nest?! _"You need to descend, it's dangerous up there."

"I-I know, b-but I can't leave; he's still here."

_Damn, I knew it! _"J-just wait there now; we'll send some people up to get you." He turned to Kennedy. "You need to send some men up now." Kennedy nodded and signalled for some Interpol Agents to aid the man. "Don't worry, help is on the way."

"N-no," replied the man. "I can't wait, I'll have to jump." He pushed off of the cliff edge.

"NO!" But Hunter's screams weren't enough to save the man. He had fallen to his death. "Damn it! Cooper, have the Crime Scene Unit search the nest. I want them to retrieve that sniper rifle. And I need a ballistics test ran on both guns and the bullet that hit Hardy."

"I'm afraid we must insist that you refrain from investigating further; we are in control now," Kennedy said, grabbing Hunter's shoulder.

"Oh yeah? How so? I demand my evidence back."

"I'm sorry, but with the President's plane here, we are claiming extraterritorial rights, so-"

"Hold it! Extraterritorial rights? But both the shooting and the shooter were outside the plane, and so was the President."

"What?! F-fine; we'll grant you your investigative rights and return your evidence... But we will follow closely."

"Then please," Hunter began, a smug smile across his face. "Escort me to the President's plane. Cooper, bring the reports on the tests once they're complete."

A very frustrated security guard led Hunter to the plane. He was the Chief of the Presidential Security Team, a powerful man controlling a powerful force employed by a powerful politician, and yet he was so powerless. He unlocked the door, and the two stepped into a room with a desk and shelves of books and small monitors, which could only be described as a reception by Hunter. He looked around, someone was missing; the President.

"Mr. President?!" he exclaimed.

"It's no use," began Kennedy. "He's behind that locked door in the security office. In fact, he's watching your every move right now, listening in."

Hunter swivelled around and looked to the corner of the 'lobby'. He spotted a camera and simply shrugged, returning to his work. "Then first," he said to Kennedy. "We shall examine the body." Hunter knelt down beside the coroner at Hardy's body. The coroner stated that the cause of death was blood loss due to a bullet wound under his left armpit. "That was a very accurate shot," Hunter said standing up. "The only place on his upper body unprotected by his vest, other than his head." _Which makes me wonder,_ he thought. _Why didn't the sniper just aim for the head? Or was he really aiming at the President? If so were the revolver shots really throwing him off? _

He turned around, anti-clockwise, until he was facing the desk, and proceeded towards it. He sat down in the chair and made himself comfortable. Kennedy, astonished, asked him what he was doing. "I'm analysing," he replied, a wry grin across his smug face. He then swiftly pulled open a drawer and flicked through various files and items until he found what he was looking for. "Just I suspected," he gazed at the piece of paper, proud. "Look here, Jack."

Detective Cooper and Acting Security Chief Kennedy walked around to examine the paper. It was a security plan detailing several undercover agents who were supposedly in the crowd during the speech. Hunter demanded that cooper found these agents immediately and sent him off to work. He then pulled out the plan that he had found in the bag from the bin, and compared the two. He smiled as he found the glaring contradiction, and the key to the case. "Look here, Kennedy, in these two plans, the positions of you and Hardy have been switched..."

"Well, er..." Kennedy stuttered, scratching the back of his head. "The President ordered our positions changed in a new security plan..."

"And the undercover agents?"

"What of them? They should clearly have been marked on both plans..."

"No they're only on the original, I-"

At that moment the door to the security office unlocked and the President called out to Hunter, beckoning him into the next room. _This will be a good chance to connect our loose ends, _he thought. _Or at least, I hope so..._ He stepped through the door and into an elaborately crafted room, dressed in security monitors and shelves of old tapes. Immediately Hunter noticed a broken monitor, with no audio; the lobby. Could that be a coincidence? Did Kennedy secretly know about it? Or was it all just a simple mistake?

Slow, firm steps brought Hunter to the President's side, where he put out a hand. The President rose to take and shake his hand, and then praised him for his famous work as a prosecutor. Hunter smiled and returned the favour, praising his work as the President.

"President Nazarbayev, I would like to inquire about-"

"Oh, enough of that!" the President muttered as he slowly drifted back into his seat, an alcoholic beverage in his hand. "I heard you talking and that is why I let you in."

"I see..." Hunter pondered on the mixed messages that very statement gave, and began to analyse all the puzzles it held.

"I want you to understand that there is nothing suspicious about my security detail," he grunted. "I simply wished for Hardy to be on my right." He sighed, and then downed his glass. "There, I do hope I've been of help to you."

"Greatly," Hunter smiled to himself, smugly. "But I have one more question, about something I noticed in that first cabin. Whose vest is that, with the bullet embedded in it?"

"Simple," the President chuckled, almost relieved. "Mine, I was wearing it the whole time."

At that moment, a member of the Crime Scene Unit entered the President's Private Security Cabin, in which everyone was gathered. "Sir," he said, approaching Prosecutor Hunter. "A DNA analysis shows that the blood on the bullet embedded in that vest belonged to our victim."

"Ah," Hunter sighed. "So that confirms my long-lasting suspicion." He smiled and then pointed his finger at Josh Kennedy. "You've been hiding something from us, haven't you?" Hunter observed the shocked expressions on all the faces in his peripheral vision. "Allow me to elaborate. The point of entry on the victim his beneath his left shoulder, from somewhere to the front and side of him, and hence the point of exit was behind his right shoulder. However, the bullet then had to go on and hit the President's vest, so the victim had to have been on the President's left. As I recall, the updated security plan shows that Josh Kennedy would be standing there, and the President stated that he wanted Louis Hardy to be on his right, so-"

"I object!" Kennedy shouted. "The photograph is more than enough to show that I was on the President's right at the time."

"Precisely," Hunter smiled. "And with that statement, I assert that you, Josh Kennedy, are in fact Louis Hardy." As all around his gasped, Hunter turned to the young forensic scientist. "What have you to say?"

"Well, sir... It seems that the DNA analysis showed that it matched our victim, who we are running through our system, but early results show that it is the blood of a Kennedy."

"Well there you have it," Hunter smiled. "It seems that-"

"But wait, sir!" interrupted the member of CSU. "We also found that the bullet's ballistic markings match those of the revolver you recently gave us."

Prestigious Prosecutor Arran Hunter gasped, along with all those who had been aiding him as part of his investigation team, and Hardy laughed. "Well, Hunter," he began. "You may have uncovered my secret but you've yet to prove anything against me."

"Impossible!" Hunter exclaimed. "That would mean that the shooter was indeed Ms. Valle, but she has been proven to have been in the Left Audience, despite our shooter having to have been in the Right Audience, above which was the sniper nest. Perhaps..." He placed his right index finger on his temple again, deep in thought. _Perhaps, the evidence had been tampered with. But who... Who could have tampered with the evidence? Wait a moment... Eureka! Of course! _It seemed so obvious to him at this time, now that he had finally joined together each trail of his logic.

"I've found the solution!" Hunter exclaimed, almost gleefully. "I assert that the person holding the gun which fired the first shot was..." He swivelled around and pointed his finger at his target. "You! Ms. Rachael Valle!" Hunter simply smiled through the shocked exclamations of everyone around him. "You fired the first decoy shot at the flag, in order to initiate the plan that had been set out. Of course, there was a second shot, the real assassin, who had been thrown off by your fake assassination attempt and ended up missing, harming no one."

"Hold it!" Hardy shouted, frustrated. "That in no way solves the murder of my colleague!"

"I'm glad you've brought that to everyone's attention for me," Hunter said, looking at Hardy, who was taken aback. "You see, there was in fact a third shot fired, by this revolver, within the sound-proof confinements of this very plane, which killed Josh Kennedy. And the man behind the trigger was you, Louis."

"I object! That's impossible, that gun wasn't in my possession at the time!"

"Ah, but it was. I am to believe that you swapped the revolver that Ms. Valle had with your own personal firearm when you confiscated the evidence from us. And my proof is fingerprints."

After a short while, Hardy simply burst into a demonic laugh. "Pah! You fool! Of course my fingerprints were on it. As you so kindly pointed out, I confiscated that evidence from you before. You've no concrete evidence!"

The crowd around the duo's series of rebuttals began to mumble among themselves. Ideas such as 'Perhaps he is right' escaped the mouths of a few. But Hunter spoke up, "There is, however, one place that only the fingerprints of the user of the firearm would be; on the bullets inside the six-round capacity cylinder. Jack, if you'd please run the bullets for fingerprints."

"On it," Cooper smiled as he took the evidence to the Crime Scene Unit. The atmosphere that he had left behind was heavy and dark. Hunter and Hardy were in constant mental combat, staring each other down with equally serious expressions. Eventually, Jack Cooper of Scotland Yard returned with the results. "Well, Arran, you're right. Louis Hardy, the man we see before us, was the sole person to handle those bullets. And leave fingerprints at least... As well as that, Ms. Valle's fingerprints were nowhere to be found, but will surely be on the gun in Hardy's possession."

"Perfect," Hunter smiled. "In conclusion, I think that I have solved what has happened. For some reason, the President, Louis Hardy and Rachael Valle set up a fake assassination attempt so that Louis Hardy could assume the identity of Josh Kennedy. You had planned to use your claim on extra-territorial rights to take over the investigation and hide the truth. However, at the same time a real assassination attempt had been planned, but was luckily prevented by your fake assassination. Ergo, the man who had actually intended to kill the President is still out there." Before he left, he turned to Detective Cooper and spoke, "Jack, remember this case."

"Book 'em," Hunter said jokingly, as he left. As he stepped out of the plane, he noticed a shadowy figure just beyond the sniper nest. _That must be him, _Hunter thought, staring up as the man walked away. _But I guess, some things are best let go..._

Later that day, Hunter returned to his office in the High Prosecutors' Offices block of the Crown Prosecution Service. He looked forward to relaxing after a long day's work. However, this hope was short-lived as he soon spotted a mysterious calling card on his desk, a Red Sun rising above a Golden City. On the flip side, there was a message;

"_Perhaps not everything is as it seems..._

_-Josh Kennedy"_

_Oh no! _Hunter thought he quickly snatched up his phone, and dialled a familiar number. When Detective Cooper picked up, Hunter shouted down the line, "Jack!"

"Hunter," Jack said. "The President of Kazakhstan is dead."


End file.
